The Vengeful Dead
by TheForgetfulOne
Summary: In which certain souls over on the other side aren't happy with what's going on with their still-living loved ones and decide to do something about it. Crack fic.


**This is what happens when my brain wanders while I'm at work.**

**This is my first go at a humorous crack fic so I have my fingers crossed that it will entertain you should you decide to go ahead and read this. I don't plan for this to be a long story, but we'll see how things go.**

**I'll also add a little warning here just in case: characters might be a little OOC, and spoilers for those who aren't that far in to Naruto or Shippuden.**

**Apart from that, enjoy this silly little fanfiction.**

**Disclaimer: I don't Naruto or any of its characters.**

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The Vengeful Dead

Chapter 1: From the Grave

It was a cloudless, sunny late afternoon in the Village Hidden in the Leaf, the usual bustle of people in the streets going about their everyday routines. For some it was simply running errands, others it was operating their businesses, carrying out scrub-calibre missions, or making idle chitchat with friends. An average day, really.

Although, things were a bit more lively today. Why? That would be because today was October 10th – the Attack and Defeat of the Kyūbi no Youko. This year would mark the fifth anniversary of the event so it was a cause for both celebration and mourning. Which takes us to the local graveyard.

Already the place had been visited by some of the populace in drips and drabs, all bringing some form of respectful offering to deceased loved ones. Despite half a decade passing, the pain of their losses still stung and they made it known. Salty tears streaking the mourners' faces as they confessed to the tombstones how much they missed them, what's been happening in their absence, and so on, and so on.

It wasn't just sorrow that was felt by the visitors. Oh no. There was also festering bitterness, stemmed from hatred for the beast that caused the tragic loss of life so long ago. Scorn for it, and for the container it now resided in.

Curse it!

Curse the fox, and curse that damn–

_KA-BOOOOM!_

Any sentence anyone was in the midst of saying or thinking was cut short as the ground between two hapless civilians exploded in a mushroom cloud of dirt, accompanied by frightened, girly screams. A few people fled from the falling debris of stone and wood while others stupidly flocked to see the commotion. The two men at the epicentre of the blast, unharmed, sat up on shaky arms, staring terrified at the new ditch.

"Everybody move! Get back!" Ordered several ninjas who also came to pay their respects. Shoving through the crowd and warding onlookers away. A jōnin approached and knelt beside one of the shaken men.

"Are you okay, sir? What happened?" He asked. Whatever words that formed came out as stuttering whimpers, not quite getting over the shock. Same problem with the second man who was thrown by the force. As the dust began to settle, the jōnin signalled for his comrades to examine the scene.

They didn't walk more than two steps before jumping back with startled gasps, as did the crowd, when a grimy hand shot of the hole and latched on to the edge. The ninja present drew their kunai, ready to attack, despite the sliver of fear settling over them. Another swiftly hand followed, then there was a raspy sound of effort as a body robed in white funeral attire hauled itself out, face hidden in a sea of long red hair.

Generally, the universal reaction to seeing a corpse rise from what was once its grave would be to run away before they could become zombie food, screeching the problem for the world to hear. But for the small group of spectators, the situation hadn't sunk in yet.

"Goddamn it!" Hissed a woman's voice. "That old man is lucky I'm back down here or I'd be kicking his ass right now!" Another voice from the pit spoke up.

"Honey, I don't think you should be threatening Hagoromo-sama…" A blond man also shrouded in white pulled himself up. The woman paused in dusting dirt off of herself to round on the taller man.

"I wouldn't have to if he didn't send us back to our _coffins_, you know!" Raged the redhead as she clenched her fists. The man, who had realised they had an audience, held up his hands in a placating manner and began in a gentle tone.

"Kushina-chan, please calm down for–"

"I mean he could've just dropped us off anywhere," Kushina continued, still not noticing the gawping villagers.

"You have a point–"

"Literally anywhere! But noooooooo! He had us wake up six feet under!"

"I'm not too pleased about it either but–"

"In a box. Covered in dirt and _worms_, you know!" Further illustrating her point, several of the wriggly creatures flopped on to the ground around them, thrown off by the woman's erratic, rant-induced movements. The other called her name exasperatedly only to be ignored again. "Now I feel all gross and have to take a shower before I can–"

"Kushina!" Barked the blond. That got her attention.

"What, Minato?" She snapped back. What could be so important that her husband had to stop her venting?

He need not have said anything because the heavy thuds them answered for him. Kushina glanced around,

"Oh." Finally noticing. The slumped forms of the villagers, civilian and shinobi, surrounded them. Either fainted or on their knees in a wide-eyed state of catatonia. The realisation at last sunk in. All was quiet in the cemetery. Then there was a light, bashful chuckle. "Sorry, everyone." No one answered Kushina back. Beside her, Minato ran a hand over his face and sighed quietly, smudging soil on his skin.

If this was what their reception was going to be like, he couldn't wait to see how the rest of the village will react. After all, the dead were meant to stay dead.

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**So what do you think of the first chapter? Let me know what you think, and I'll see you in the next chapter.**


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